


Angelic Soulbond

by Queenie18



Series: Angel/Demon Alec Lightwood [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Dies, Angel Alec Lightwood, Angst, BAMF Alec Lightwood, Dead Alec Lightwood, Fluff, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt Magnus Bane, Immortal Alec Lightwood, Immortal Husbands, Immortal Magnus Bane, Jealous Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Momentarily, Mourning Magnus Bane, Powerful Alec Lightwood, Protective Alec Lightwood, Raziel is Parabatai with Alec, Raziel is a baby, Self Sacrificing Alec Lightwood, Soulbonds, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Winged Alec Lightwood, he must be protected, its temporary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-21 20:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie18/pseuds/Queenie18
Summary: “And there it was, a tether then a sharp flash. Memories of centuries, days spent in the angelic lands. His creation. His guardianship. His nameship. And Rackriel, his brother, his confident. The Angel of the Light and Mortals.”—Or an AU where Alec is Aleksandria, the Angel of the Shadows and Downworlders. His life as a Shadowhunter was a gift as a brief chance of mortality.*Takes place after he dies as a Shadowhunter*
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Angel/Demon Alec Lightwood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642672
Comments: 23
Kudos: 356





	Angelic Soulbond

Alexander Lightwood-Bane didn’t really anticipate dying being so  easy.

There had been a demon lose in Alicante and it was a quick decision, himself for his son. One minute he was drawing his bow, his worn muscles protesting the action, and then he had jumped in front of Rafael, the claws of the demon tearing through his chest.

He had lived longer than most Shadowhunters, had the chance to grow grey and had the chance to watch his Shadowhunter son become a formidable warrior and his Warlock child to grow into his powers.

Alec was ready for death, as he crumbled to the floor. It, surprisingly, didn’t hurt.

There was a shout and a slam of something next to him, a lifeless carcass of the demon flopping uselessly on the floor. Maybe it was poetic, to die by something he promised to protect the world from.

Rafe cried over him, slamming the floor around him as he begged his dad to activate a rune.

Alec tsked at him and smiled. “You know a rune is pointless now, my little hunter.”

Rafe laughed, despite it all, and cradled his dad’s head in his lap as he picked up his phone to call his papa.

Alec thought of Magnus as he lay there. There would never be enough time for him, never. Even as his parents, Isabelle and Max and Jace had moved on, he still wasn’t ready to leave Magnus.

He had coughed then, the stink of demon ichor and blood fresh in his nose as he vomited up. He didn’t have long but he was content to lie with his son, damning the responsibilities and protocols they both swore by.

“I’m so proud of you Rafael. So, so proud.” He said, trying hard to keep smiling.

“Don’t say that, don’t say it as if you are dying.”

Alec shook his head, a light fuzzy feeling spreading through him. “You know I am, Rafe. We all knew it was limited time.”

Alec fumbled but grasped his son’s hand, tight as he could. The light feeling grew, his world a mixture of light and colour, beautiful even as he slowly faded.

“Tell Max, tell him that I’m so proud of him too. Will forever be proud of you to- two.”

His grasp was weaker then when the colours started to mute and his son cried harder.

“And tell Magnus - tell him.” He coughed and grimaced, shaking with a chill that he knew meant no good things. “Tell me that I love him. He is my forever and that...”

Alec closed his eyes, the dark oblivion a comfort as the world slipped. His voice was forced steadiness, he wanted to say it all before he went. “He must move on and clasp at happiness, no matter how fleeting. His happiness is the only thing I want the most. He must be happy, okay my little hunter? Make sure he is happy. And make sure he doesn’t wait for me, that he will love again if it appears, I don’t want Magnus to punish himself for the rest of his life.”

And when Alec coughed again and shook harder, his clasp on his son’s hand slipped and he left the world with a peacefulness and serenity of the life he had lived. He could rest.

*

The first thing Alec thought when he ascended was that heaven was not what had imagined.

He guessed that he would see his family, maybe New York or his apartment. He thought there would be tears and cries of joy as they embraced after so many years apart.

But there was nothing but an endless whiteness. And then, there was startling silver eyes glaring at him, in what looked like, amusement?

“Aleksandria?” The man said, his voice like liquid honey but playful.

Alec blinked once and focused on the breathtaking face, the starlight eyes, the sharp jaw, ice white hair and wide smile. There was something, familiar... A tugging at his mind as if it were forcing him to remember, to fight the heavy weight on his brain.

“Aleksandria? Welcome back, brother.” The beautiful man said again, his voice a soft murmur in Alec’s ear.

He felt himself grasp at something, pulling and tugging on that singular feeling of familiarity as he lay there, somewhere that he almost felt he knew.

So he waited and pulled and pushed, fighting that block on his mind. The flicker almost faded but he clasped it, holding tight.

And there it was, a tether then a sharp flash. Memories of centuries, days spent in the angelic lands. His creation. His guardianship. His nameship. And Rackriel, his brother, his confident. The Angel of the Light and Mortals.

“Rackriel?” Alec answered and the blinding smile of happiness that replied made Alec feel a sense of wholeness he hadn’t felt for so long.

Alec sat up, shaking on the uneasiness of his strong, stable legs. He had been so used to the cramps of his muscles that came with old age, that he forgot what it was like to be young and powerful and... immortal.

“I have missed you brother.” Alec whispered and laughed harshly when Rackriel foreced him into a rushed hug. “I didn’t even realise I missed you but I did.”

Rackriel shook his head as they parted, his silver wings rearranging themselves behind him. Wings, Alec thought.

Warily, he touched the edge of his shoulder blade, a light stroke to call forward and then a familiar heaviness sat behind him. Alec didn’t need to look, he knew the black but iridescent feathers that he had grown to adore from the moment he had been created. They were exquisite, boringly black in the shadows but gleaming with greens, blues, yellows and purples when he stepped into the light.

He could remember Rackriel making some joke about him stepping out of the shadows into his true form many centuries ago. Something about hiding himself and the irony of his place at the shadows.

Yes, it was beautiful and bittersweet to be mortal. But his wings, his duty, his fellow Angels and his power - that was what he was made to do and what he felt more comfortable with.

Rackriel huffed and tossed his hair back, longer than Alec had last seen it. “You were always so sentimental Aleksandria.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “And you were always so stubborn even when you knew I was right.”

“You were and never will be right.” Rackriel hissed and gestured Alec to follow him as turned his back. “Who’s brilliant idea was it to use their singular chance of mortality during the biggest war in the Shadow World for centuries?”

“I didn’t know that then.” Alec retorted, but following anyways.

They were in The Passage, a light between Earth and the Angelic Lands. He knew in a few moments there would be a harsh pain in his chest and a plunge downwards until they landed in lands not unlike Earth.

“I have to admit,” Rackriel said after a few moments, his bare back still to Alec, his immaculate wings maybe stretched out more than they needed to in an attempt to show off. “It was amusing to watch you grow up as a boy. You were a very lanky and clumsy child.”

Alec growled. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I will be reminding you for a long time. Big, powerful Aleksandria, Defender of the Shadows, guardian of the most powerful Warlocks on Earth, had fallen over a chair when he was thirteen.”

Rackriel was laughing when Alec ran forward and smacked his brother over the head. Oh, he hated his arrogance and pride and his teasing but he secretly adored it too.

They had been made together, the Shadow and the Light, a millennia ago. They were one of the firsts, had been worshipped by younger made Angels, which Alec had despised but Rackriel had always preened at. Despite being so different, they were drawn together and found a companionship beyond the usual between Angels. They were brothers, twins, down to their very souls.

“I’m surprised you weren’t jealous of my Parabatai.” Alec teased, a hollow echo in his chest as he remembered his mortal life.

Yes, it was short and fleeting but it meant more to him than centuries in these lands. He had a family, a Parabatai, a duty and he had Magnus. Alec frowned, clenching his hands tightly. Magnus. His chosen guardian, the man he had grown to love in the heavens.

He loved Magnus so much that it hurt him. He had loved the Warlock so much that he was willing to descend and become a mortal for a grasp of a life with him.

It had been worth it, every damned second. Magnus was worth it, even if Alec wasn’t sure how he was supposed to move on without him now.

Rackriel didn’t realise his turbulent thoughts and tossed a hand in the air. “You have no idea how badly I wanted him to remain dead when Clarissa Fairchild asked me to bring him back to life.” He looked back, eyes shining with faint understanding when he saw Alec’s expression, and he jested. “Johnathan was a watered-down version of me, of course you chose him as your Parabatai.”

Laughing, Alec slapped his shoulders as he sensed the end of The Passage. “I did not miss your humility at all Rackriel.”

They both stopped and muttered words spoken in the Angelic language which mortals understood as Runes. Then there was the sharp pain in his chest, a slice through him like claws of a demon. Claws he had died from.

When they fell, Alec almost didn’t feel it. It hadn’t been long, not really in the mind of an immortal but it was strange to plunge down with not a second thought.

White became colour and colour became land as they floated slower until they were flying. The flap of his wings, the pull of his muscles was such a relief he had missed from the years without them. Flying was second nature to him. He did it more than most Angels did, as a way of stress relief and a break of his responsibilities.

When they landed, the grass soft under his feet - there was a roar of noise until Alec was bombarded by other Angels. There was brash Uriellia, her amber and gold wings gleaming under the sun as she squealed. And there was quiet Azrizael, who just smiled warmly at him and tucked her brilliant blue wings behind her back.

Alec grinned widely at them all, hugged his brothers and sisters as he was overcome with emotions. He had forgotten them all when he had been mortal but had felt a small emptiness in his chest that was never eased. It was now, though, Alec felt content and whole again.

Not completely whole, not ever, not without him, who’s glitter and eccentricity will haunt his mind when he was finally able to rest. For now, he was happy to be here, in his birth place and his Angelic nature restored.

*

Alec watched Magnus from the shadows, a glamour over him that even Magnus would not see past. He felt nervous, on edge and terrified of what he knew was coming.

Magnus wouldn’t understand at first, when he would attempt to explain. He would be angry, perhaps even pushing the idea that Alec was nothing but a cruel illusion.

Alec wasn’t even sure if Magnus would want him, like this, after he knew. It was one thing to love a Shadowhunter, another to love an Angel.

So Alec gazed at Magnus as he danced with some Seelie, her chest bursting out of her tight, short pink dress and her face marked with heavy makeup. Her hands seemed too eager as she pressed herself tightly against Magnus, grinding unashamedly. Alec knew this mood, both before his life with Magnus and after it. It was the stage of drunkness he reached after a day of mourning.

Was he mourning Alec? Or maybe Raphael, who Alec knew had died not long after him?

Alec had died, maybe one hundred and fifty years ago. He couldn’t fathom Magnus still mourning him now, after so long. There must have been a limit to losing to mortality, a switch, a due day? He had made Magnus promise to move on, to find happiness after he died. And he had, hadn’t he?

With that thought, Alec stepped outside the club, breathing in the cool night air. Angels, whilst being immortal, couldn’t understand grief like death. When one died, even a mortal, they ascended so the Angel wouldn’t ever need to mourn them.

Alec had grown to care for mortals he had seen whilst guarding Magnus, but in the end, he saw them again. There was no consequence, no need for the resentment. And whilst he felt it as Alexander, he had time to forget it when he saw them in Heaven again.

So Alec waited for Magnus outside of the club, his hand tight on his bow, the Osruck. He let Magnus have this time, whatever he was doing, because whilst he was older than Magnus, his love understood the pains of immortality more than Alec could.

It was hours before Magnus stumbled out of the club, his shirt unbuttoned and his chest suspiciously covered in what looked like lipstick stains. He could barely hold himself up, grinning and throwing himself down the pavement. Alec followed at a distance, his glamour still held up as Magnus walked toward the direction of his apartment.

Alec felt the anger of his guardianship flaring inside himself. Magnus was vulnerable like this, unable to think a coherent thought. His Angelic duty reared for him to grab Magnus, to bring him to safety. Alec withheld himself, just, as Magnus slammed into a wall and giggled.

It was an almost safe journey, a few mishaps stumbling toward the road and wrong turns but Alec had managed to guide Magnus to his apartment. Before Magnus could attempt to open the door, Alec heard a snarl and jumped immediately to action.

A demon. And it was here, vile and disgusting, trying to attack Magnus. Well, Alec knew that it was after him but the thought was there and Alec’s guardianship reared it’s strength in full power and he pulled the Osruck tight with an enhanced arrow.

Magnus looked startled and almost sober as he watched the demon with a calculated wariness. He made no move to stop it, but almost seemed to encourage it, his magic dancing across his fingers as if taunting.

Oh for the love of, Alec pushed forward and whispered Angelic words so that the demon would scent his blood and be forced to follow him. Demons were like addicts to their blood, it was their drug, their essence calling to consume and destroy.

They couldn’t kill Angels, not completely. But they could taint them enough to cause them to fall into Hell. Alec had lost one of his closet brothers that way and he still missed him greatly. It was worse than death, that fate. Angels were made to oppose Hell, not join it.

The demon, gladly, had ignored Magnus completely now. It’s snout was snorting in Alec’s direction and it prowled forward slowly, hunting him out. Alec glanced once at Magnus, seeing him still make no move to stop the demon and huffed a breath.

It seemed Magnus had a death wish.

So instead, Alec hissed the command of sleep and Magnus fell down in a slump.

Content, he released an arrow straight into the eye of the demon. It wasn’t a powerful one by any means, a lower class runt so that singular enhanced arrow burnt through it and dissolved it in a blinding glare of harsh white.

He slipped the Osruck into air and made a move toward Magnus, who’s beautiful face was soft with sleep as he lay there. Alec marvelled at that face, breathtaking under the shadows of eyeshadow and dark lipstick. He had loved it when it was dressed in porcelain white of the Georgian days and loved it when it was bare under the Indonesian sun.

Alec whispered the word of strength and pulled Magnus to his chest with no struggle. He cradled him, savouring the warmth and steady breath against him. He missed breathing, shockingly. Missed the way their breaths had panted out in tune as they lay in their bed, naked and euphoric. It was just them in those moments. Just Magnus and Alec, husbands and lovers.

He didn’t think as he pushed open the doors to the apartment, didn’t think as he laid Magnus down on the black silken sheets. White, the colour of mourning. Alec whispered words of comfort and ease and watched the tension fade from Magnus, his mouth tilted in a slight smile.

Alec spent the next ten hours watching Magnus like this, his body taunt against the wall. He didn’t need sleep anymore. He could sleep if he chose but it was rare and for now, he wanted nothing more to absorb everything that was Magnus before he lost him to his Angelic nature.

Magnus was a Demon child, born to hate and ridicule his kind. He had every right to be furious with Alec, to scream and cry. He deserved those words that were coming. He needs them.

*

Alec was quiet when he stood behind Magnus who was staring at that grave with hunched shoulders. His wings were hidden, as were his Angelic eyes and face. To Magnus, he was just Alexander.

“Magnus.” He said, seeing his love’s shoulders tense and his head snap up.

Good. He still recognised his voice.

“Magnus.” Alec said again, a bit louder as he stepped forward once too.

Magnus stood up, his legs shaking as he turned. Alec nearly collapsed and cried at the recognition on his face, at the widened eyes. He looked so vulnerable and weak, so unlike the powerful Warlock he projected himself as.

Alec clenched his fist to resist the urge to hug him, to kiss him. Too soon.

Magnus was shaking with emotion as he stared at Alec, tear stains down his face. Alec rubbed his neck before pushing onwards with courage he didn’t feel.

“It’s me, Mags. I promise, it’s me.” Alec whispered, daring a step forward. Magnus just stared, his mouth open. “It’s Alexander.”

He was barely breathing, seemingly stunned. Alec grimaced and rubbed his neck again. None of them said anything, the air too tight between them.

“How?” Magnus finally asked, his voice husky with chocked words.

Alec looked at him then, really looked. There was confusion there, panic too. And something else, something almost hopeful. Alec thought he never looked more stunning.

He heaved then, stumbling a bit on his legs. He was always graceful, praised for his feline movements in the Angelic Lands. If they saw him now, he didn’t dare to think.

“I, I.. Uhh..” Alec stuttered before turning to look a tree, his nerves winning. What was wrong with him?

“I’m not, not a Shadowhunter.” He said lamely, wincing at his words. Not a Shadowhunter? Really?

Alec heard Magnus step closer and he smiled softly. Magnus felt it too, even after all this time. He felt the draw toward one another, that calling to unite. That was Alec’s fault too.

But he was determined now. Magnus deserved the truth. So he turned back, his eyes glowing as he looked at Magnus with barely contained love and compassion.

“My name is not Alexander. That is my mortal name but it is not my true one.” He stated and tossed his hands in the air before settling. “I am Aleksandria.”

The harsh whisper of his name was Magnus’ first clue. His second would be the translation. Magnus stopped moving, his brows narrowed.

“It means Defender of the Shadows. That is what I was created for. I am Aleksandria, Defender of the Shadows and everything that resides within them.”

Magnus’ mouth was open, his eyes wide as he took Alec in. He didn’t seem to know what to do or feel and Alec shuffled his feet again.

“What - What do you mean?” Magnus asked.

Alec hissed and shook his head. “I’m not a Shadowhunter, Magnus, because I am an Angel. I have been an Angel for the last fifteen thousand years.”

Magnus stumbled back then. “No.” He whispered and stepped back again.

“I don’t believe you.” Was all he said.

Alec wrung his hands together. He knew he had to but this was what would push Magnus away before he had a chance to explain. Maybe it was justified.

Alec drew his hand back and caressed his shoulder blade gently and murmured the word to call forward. He pushed his wings out, the feathers gleaming under the sun as they shook, the different colours illuminating the graveyard into a sea of rainbow.

He knew his eyes were sharp, glowing blue, his hair ebony and his skin porcelain white that his mortal body hadn’t been.

Magnus gasped then and walked back further, his expression becoming guarded and his hand held in front to deflect. It was too much, too soon. The wings, the face, the aura. He was an Angel. The truth was there, brazen and whole. To him, everything was a lie and he said so, harshly and coldly.

Alec did drop to the ground then, his wings flaring out to protect him, to comfort. He was crying, he realised. Tears were flowing freely down his face. “No. None of it was a lie, just please - let, let me explain.”

Magnus shook his head and tossed his hand to create a portal. Alec didn’t stop him but hunched inwards, his wings drawing around him till he was embraced by them. He watched Magnus’ walls go up, his face no longer one he knew but one of the dangerous High Warlock, the man he guarded, not loved.

Alec stared as he stumbled into the portal and sat there, alone for hours as Magnus did not return.

He had been right. Magnus hadn’t accepted him as this and Alec felt like a fool. He had tried and that was what mattered most to him.

He tried for their happiness, even if it was evidently doomed.

*

Razriel huffed as he pushed past the wards and into the Warlock’s house, barely minding trivial things such as doors.

He sensed the Warlock so he stormed into the room, his hand calling the Trelie as the blade rested in his palm. When he saw him, that Magnus, he pushed himself forward till the Warlock noticed him.

He noticed the Warlock certainly was beautiful, his eyes dark with blue shadow and his black shirt barely hid a muscled chest. Necklaces adorned his chest as did rings on his fingers, his hair spiked with dye of magenta, purple and sapphire.

“You deserve to suffer for what you have done, Warlock.” He hissed, laughing inwardly when Magnus held his hands up, covered in amber magic. “And put your magic away, it’s insulting.”

Magnus did not such thing but growled, the embers glowing brighter. Razriel just huffed again and muttered a word till Magnus was paralysed.

The Warlock looked stunned, confused and he tossed the Trelie away as the threat was gone. Not that there was a threat in the first place.

“Now you’re going to listen very carefully, Warlock, if you want to survive. You will only speak when I permit you to.” He eased himself around Magnus, examining him carefully. “What do you know about Angelic Soulbonds?”

Magnus mumbled something then, before Razriel muttered and allowed him to speak clearly. “Answer me.”

“Not much, unsurprisingly. I know they are sacred bonds between two Angels and mean complete eternal devotion, the Angelic version of marriage.”

He didn’t like the scorn in the Warlock’s voice and stepped closer toward him, his face contorted into a snarl.

“Wrong. It does not have to happen between two Angels. An Angel can chose anyone for the honour but it is done internally and often without awareness.” Razriel hummed and whispered a word of dispel when he felt a flicker of magic.

Magnus looked furious, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger. Razriel could see why Aleksandria had chosen him, he was exotic and exciting and the complete opposite to him.

Razriel turned around and twirled a finger in the air. “Now tell me, do you know what happens when an Angel is separated from their Soulbond.”

Razriel whispered the word again and gestured for Magnus to speak as he kept his back turned. He knew it would infuriate the Warlock who was no doubt confused as to who he was and what he wanted.

“Nothing. I know nothing about that.” He seethed, his voice trembling with raw power.

Aleksandria had chosen very well, even with this issue. A very suitable match, even if Magnus was half Demon.

Razriel turned and stopped until his face was inches from Magnus’.

“Let me tell you then. The first few days are okay, an Angel has duties after all. But after that, well let’s just say, Warlock.” He grabbed Magnus’ face and held on tightly as his voice grew cold. “It’s like being killed, over and over again. It’s like being drowned alive but with no sweet escape of death. A constant agony, a never ending suffering that only worsens with the time separated.”

Razriel let go of his face and watched Magnus glare, still confused. “Imagine it. Imagine that torture of dying with nothing to stop it. Think of that agony rune used on you. Barely had it on for a day, didn’t you?”

Magnus’ eyes were distant, cold then as he remembered . Razriel chucked. “Imagine that but a thousand times worse, for days. It is like that, it is Hell.”

Razriel clapped his hands and paced across the floor of the apartment Aleksandria had lived in, once.

“Now,” He said, looking at the broken picture frame on the floor, one tossed down in anger. “You and I are going to have a talk about my brother.”

Razriel turned and watched Magnus’ brows pinch as he stared frozen. Ah, the mercy of ignorance. This Warlock did not give Aleksandria even a chance to explain, and that one thought shattered Razriel patience so he whispered harshly the speaking command and watched the Warlock that was torturing his brother.

“I don’t know your brother.” The Warlock stated stupidly and Razriel shook his head.

“Oh, you do.”

Razriel roughy brushed his back and hissed the command, feeling the ease of his wings settling. He radiated power and leadership as he glowed like a star, his eyes sharp and silver as Magnus paled and his eyes widened.

“My name is Rackriel, though you will know me as Razriel, my mortal name. I am the Angel of the Light and Mortals and father of the Shadowhunters.” Razriel grinned then, not a nice one but one of teeth and threats. “And my brother is my Shadow, Aleksandria, the Defender of the Shadows and sworn protector of the Downworld.”

Magnus somehow trembled, pushing against the command on his paralysed body. He looked terrified, or as much as an immortal warlock could look terrified under immovable walls and expressions.

Razriel disagreed with that. Immortality meant free will and a life of joy, hated this foolish pretense.

“Don’t try to fight that command. Your Demon blood isn’t enough to fight a command of the Angelic Language.” Razriel said, watching Magnus hiss.

He murmured and then there was a chair summoned in front of him, so he sat on it and watched Magnus with barely held in fury.

“Aleksandria, you must know, was created the same time as me. Despite us being equal in power and strength, my name is still more well known than his mortal one, Alexander. His few short years as a mortal is remembered more than his achievements as an Angel.”

Magnus tried to speak but Razriel had muted him already, needing to scold this stupid, ignorant Warlock before he could save his brother.

Razriel continued. “That was just the way he was, the Shadow hidden by my Light. Makes sense as to way he chose Johnathan as his Parabatai but I hated that boy and what he did to my brother.” Razriel tossed his hand. “Anyways, it was unsurprising when he was gifted the role as Guardian Angel for his silent, protecting nature versus my rather... ambitious one.”

Magnus had finally stilled, realising he was truly stuck. Good.

“Guardian Angels are rare, saved for individuals with potential, both for good and bad. Of course, they are all Downworlders or Shadowhunters, the guardianships. Aleksandria, for his power and reputation, had been promoted a rather strong one. He was happy with that role. He wanted it.” Razriel explained, his gaze heavy on Magnus as he shifted his wings into a more comfortable position.

“He was intrigued by his guardianship. They were powerful, by means far greater than most. Aleksandria was always the fatherly type so he was there, watching the young boy grow since birth and he was there the moment his mother died and his step-father was killed by him, his magic uncontrollable and untamed.” Razriel smiled slightly and looked out the window. “He muttered comforts to that child and guided him, hidden, to the Silent Brothers until he was safe.”

Razriel shook his head and frowned, refusing to meet the Warlock’s eyes. “He watched at a far greater distance then but still visited often. It wasn’t long before his feelings for the child who had become a man, changed. Aleksandria no longer felt like a father toward the boy. No, it was deeper than that, even if he didn’t see it. I saw it though, I saw the moment my brother fell in love with that guardianship.”

Razriel looked at Magnus then, who was watching with wide but distant eyes. He knew, without Razriel expressing it, that the child was himself. The walls around him was hard and meant he was unable to properly read the Warlock, whose gaze was heavy on him, unglamoroured so those cat eyes were gleaming.

“It was the day the man had defied the Silent Brothers after he had done the same spell for days. Heavy with exhaustion and fatigue, he fired a spell and stormed out, living embers crackling under his feet.” Razriel said and his voice was warm with the memory. “Aleksandria was there the entire time. And when he came to me, there was a lightness in his eyes, a glide to his steps. I knew then that Aleksandria’s heart was taken by the strange powerful Downworlder.”

Magnus seemed to slump in the command, his shoulders losing their tension.

“Aleksandria was the sworn protector of all Downworlders, despite their demon blood. That was his duty, what he was created for. It made sense that he would fall for one, even if the man had no idea. Aleksandria didn’t even know it, not for a long time. He was content to hide every manner of himself, including that tiny part of him that knew he loved a man, not a woman.” Razriel grimaced. “Even Angels are not understanding with manners of sexuality.”

Shaking his head, Razriel stood and stepped around the chair toward the window. “Aleksandria came to me one day, many years later and broke down for the first time in his life. He had seen his guardianship with someone else, loving someone else and it had destroyed him. He understood then, what he felt. He said to me, in these exact words.” Razriel looked at Magnus briefly.

“He was kissing her, Rackriel. He looked so happy, so unburdened. I love him, brother. I love him so much and it hurts, because I want to see that happiness but I want to be the one to give it to him. What do I do?” Razriel said, his hand resting against the glass as he was drawn into that day.

“I told him to carry on his duty, as was our way. He could not ever have the man, it was against every Angelic Law so Aleksandria did exactly as I said even if it was slowly draining him. He watched and watched, was there for every misstep and mistake, murmuring comfort and offering protection when needed. It came naturally to him. He fought his feelings, pushed them down until he was this shell, a bare husk of the powerful being he had once been.”

Razriel sighed and muttered a command so that Magnus was able to move. He had a feeling the Warlock would not leave or attack now, not with the information he was learning.

“Aleksandria said it was the hardest thing he had done, guarding the man he loved whilst he loved another. There was a strange innocence to that relationship, with the mortal woman and immortal man. Aleksandria had told me that they were content in this bubble of pretence. He never ran away, though. Even as they stayed together all those years, absorbed in each other, he was there as a sense of comfort. He would later tell me that he did it was a way of preparation for every relationship the man would have, so that it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time.”

He could see it all as if it were mere years ago. His brother’s worn face, the heartbreak pushing him under this sea of sadness and duty.

Razriel looked over and saw Magnus had sat in a chair, his body slumped over until his head nearly touched his knees.

Razriel was softer when he carried on. “She died years later. Aleksandria was there as his love buried her and he gave him Angelic blessings of hope and peace when the man collapsed on the ground. He carried him back to his home and visited every day until a light was back in the man’s eyes, his Warlock friend there as a comfort when Aleksandria couldn’t be.”

Raziel smiled. “He still visits her, the woman. Every few years, he visits her. He never hated her, not once. She was there, giving light and hope and love and it was enough for him, to see that guardianship happy. They are friends, often speaking over fire and early evenings. She knows he loved him and she was there encouraging him to pursue him when Aleksandria did not.”

“Aleksandria always have strong belief in his duty, so much that I knew he would not attempt to be with the Downworlder in his protection even if he wished to. Aleksandria was there the moment the man finally took his first male lover, beaming with happiness as it meant that there was a hope, no matter how small. And he was there when the man travelled the world, when he got banned from Peru despite everything Aleksandria did to stop it. He was always there, invisible but there.” Razriel watched Magnus’ figure slump further, as if any fight was taken out from him.

This was difficult, no doubt, to hear such a hard truth. But Razriel needed him to understand, so that he could save Aleksandria.

“I think the closest time Aleksandria came to revealing himself was the time the man gave his heart so willingly to a manipulative, cold Vampire. Oh, how he hated her, often cursing and brandishing her name to me in cold malice. He had never hated anyone before, my brother was too kind for that. But he despised her.” Raziel chuckled and touched the window briefly.

“I know Aleksandria was in too deep with the man, though I did nothing to stop it. My brother was enthralled, he spent centuries watching him grow comfortable with himself, becoming who he was destined. Aleksandria was always so traditional, so we both knew that this man was it for him, no one else would be enough.”

Razriel moved to sit beside Magnus, his wings already summoned back. To the Warlock he was attractive but mortality so, not ethereal like he was in his true form. The Warlock barely registered him.

“After the situation with Valentine and the threat that still posed, Aleksandria came to me. There’s one thing you need to know about Angels.” Razriel looked down at the crumbled body of the Warlock. “We are made with a gift. Once, whenever we desired, we could take the form of a mortal being, a Shadowhunter so we could have a singular, normal life. Not many have taken it, many of us not willing to lose something so precious.”

The Warlock looked up, his gaze wary and heavy, blinking madly. Razriel grimaced and sighed. “Aleksandria told me he was planning to take his gift, to be with the man he loved at least once. I told him it was risky, we are born with no memories of what we are. In that body, he might not love the man or even meet him. But Aleksandria was determined.”

Razriel looked up. “So he did it, he made the oath with the promise he was born in the same city where the man was High Warlock of. I was left to watch over him, seeing him as a child for the first time, saw the moment he realised he liked men. I watched every moment.”

Razriel patted the Warlock’s leg. “I didn’t anticipate you making the first move. I was surprised but pleased, that after so many years, you felt something toward him like he did to you. Once again, I saw my brother fight his sense of duty over his desire. Only in that life, he chose his desire.”

The Warlock seemed almost brighter now, as if the memory brought back some happiness. “That day at the wedding was perfect. I saw, for the first time, my brother claim what he wanted for so long. He fell deep and fast after that, old emotions contributing to that passion. You were just as quick to fall, surprisingly, but I suspected even if you didn’t realise it, something in your body registered who he was for you and returned the sentiment.”

The Warlock smiled lightly then. “I always wondered why Alexander was so eager after everything he had been through.”

Razriel smiled back. “Yes, well he had waited for you for almost four hundred years. I thought he took it too slowly.” Razriel looked out at the skyline in front of him, the golden mist of sunset illuminating the room. “The moment he married you and devoured himself to you, I saw the Soulbond snap into place. Suddenly there was colour inside him, blending with the soft white that always resided there.”

Razriel sighed and stood. “Even in a mortal body, an Angel can still activate a Soulbond though it would lie dormant until we are in our true form again. That day made me panic for the first time in my long life. Aleksandria was doomed to a fate of agony the moment he died. I dreaded it, doing everything I could to keep him alive. Aleksandria didn’t deserve that.”

“He watched his family die around him but stayed alive, using his influence to recreate the Shadow World into something accepting and perfect. My brother had unwittingly done something he always strived to do, he made the Shadowhunters and the Downworld one unit at last. That had been his dream as an Angel, a life where his Downworlders would be accepted.”

Razriel turned back to Magnus who looked ashen and shocked. “I didn’t calculate for that demon in Alicante. Aleksandria, the type of Angel he was, did not hesitate to use his guardian instincts to protect his child, the dear Rafael. That child still charges around now, demanding audiences he doesn’t have the authority to ask for.”

Razriel stepped forward and glanced down at the Warlock, his face open and genuine. It was not the Warlock’s fault, not all this. But he could make it right, if he chose correctly.

“When Alexander died and Aleksandria was back, I was overjoyed. My brother was back with me, my Shadow and my twin. He was happy for awhile, visiting his mortal family in the Heavens, commanding and leading once more. But I saw the resignation, the drawn out, hopeful looks when he thought no one was looking. He missed you, I knew that.”

Raziel sighed. “But he could not visited you, not once. The moment he did, the Soulbond would come alive and then he would be forced to a life of longing and agony.”

Magnus flinched, knowing what’s was coming. Razriel voice became colder, harsher. “One hundred and forty eight years after he died, he made a foolish mistake to seek you out. He disobeyed the rules he swore by just for a chance of a future with you. If you accepted him, he would of fallen and become a Greater Demon. That did not stop him. The moment he made eye contact with you in that damned graveyard, the Soulbond awakened and he had ran back home in sheer desperation after you left him there.”

Razriel glared with hatred at the Warlock who had made no move. “He was shaking by the time I found him, crying. He hadn’t realised what his body had done, didn’t realise he had made the Bond with you. It was too late. By the fourth day, my brother began to feel that pain and became immobile a day after it.”

Razriel leant down, his gaze hard on that stupid Warlock. “Two weeks later, he no longer made any sound, no longer looked anywhere. My brother, one of the most respected and powerful Angels, was a body, dying with no relief. He was being destroyed.”

Razriel grabbed the Warlock’s face. “Imagine the pain he is in now, a month later. I do not even recognise him now, useless as he is. He may as well be a dead body, he is that far gone. You did this, stupid Warlock. You made the great Aleksandria of the Angelic Lands a body of pain and destruction. You did this, you.”

Magnus swallowed and trembled as he stared at Razriel with barely hidden pain. “I did not know.”

Razriel released him. “No, you didn’t because you didn’t let him explain. Yes, he isn’t a Shadowhunter but he loved you, far greater than you realised. He loved you longer than you did and protected you from birth. My loyal Aleksandria just wanted to be accepted, like he accepted you. And you left him there.”

Magnus stood, his eyes glaring with power. “Take me to him.”

Razriel huffed. “If you plan on hurting him in any way Warlock, you will ceased to exist.”

Magnus rolls his eyes and snapped his fingers, a dance of blue magic flowering across his fingers. “I would never hurt him.”

“I hope so, for both my brother’s and your sakes.”

Razriel summonsed his wings with a brief touch and grabbed Magnus’ hand, pulling him to his chest. “Hold tight.”

With a large swoop of his wings, there was a blinding flash before Razriel and him ascended.

“You shall be the first Demon blooded to be accepted into the Angelic Lands. Consider it an honour.”

*

Alec was dying.

Days had merged into one as the pain that clawed from his very self seemed to destroy again and again as he lay there, immobile.

He was faintly aware that there was someone by him. A comforting figure, perhaps once a friend if he could remember anything behind this endless nightmare. Alec wanted to speak but had lost his voice maybe months ago. Years? Decades?

Time had seemed to stop and he winced as he curled into himself deeper to stop this agony, this complete emptiness that shook his very core.

“Alexander.” He thought he heard being spoken.

Alexander. A name he might have once remembered. The voice was soft, honeyed like rivers of Decido, a low caress that felt more intimate than a touch of a lover.

Love. Intimacy. There were cats eyes in his mind, golden and ethereal as he winced as another slash of pure misery echoed across his body. Those eyes made him want to reach out, to touch the seemingly beautiful face they belonged to.

There was a soft brush of something on his shoulder and suddenly the world lightened, the pain eased as though it never existed. He almost hummed at the welcomed release, his body warm, buttery and loose.

Alec shifted as his wings dropped off the edge of the bed he resided in. That touch was still there though more pressured as though it was done in a way to reassure.

“Alexander.” The voice spoke again, only this time Alec recognised the purr as that hand began to slowly trail along his shoulders and across his back.

He frowned even as his soul seemed to sing, to awaken. “Magnus?”

When he turned around, Alec felt as though his long motionless heart began to beat again. There was a familiar admiration in that face, those eyes gazing at him in soft love. Magnus smiled slightly at him, his makeup dark, heavy in a way it hadn’t been when Alec was a Shadowhunter.

Magnus wore his makeup as a mask. And Alec couldn’t help but think that it was all his fault, that pain that was lingering in the depths of his stare.

It was shocking how quickly a small touch from him was able to rid Alec of all his pain, all the ache under he was pliant under it. If there was any doubt about the Bond, Magnus being here rid all of it.

“Hello.” He finally whispered and knelt down so he was at almost Alec’s height from where he lay.

Alec closed his eyes in peace when Magnus’ hand drifted down his back. “What are you doing here?”

Magnus only stared at him in that quiet adoration that lit up his features into something soft but powerful.

“I came to see you.”

There was a short silence as Alec struggled to come up with words eloquent enough under the brutal but amazing brushes of Magnus’ hand across his bare body.

In the end, he relied on brutal honesty. “I’m sorry.”

It was probably the lamest thing he could of said but it was truthful. He was sorry for lying to Magnus. For putting him through all those years of mourning. For forcing the Soulbond on him without asking whether it was okay.

“Whatever for, darling?” Magnus murmured.

Alec actually hummed when that sinfully pleasant hand found his hip bone.

“For everything, I guess.” Alec admitted. “Though most for hurting you.”

Magnus frowned slightly at that and Alec wanted nothing more than to rmekve that expression from his face. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“I do.” Alec replied, eyes fluttering when his hand caressed the smooth of his spine.

“No.” Magnus looked at him with a hard, though not cold look. “It’s me who has to apologise. For not allowing you to explain, for causing this pain on you.”

Alec pursed his lips. “Not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

That hand briefly stopped before it continued its path as if committing Alec to memory. “We’ve both made mistakes and we both apologised. I think that’s is fair enough, no?”

His lips flickered in a faint smirk. “Perhaps.”

Magnus made a noise of agreement and focused on drifting his fingers over Alec’s back, up his arms and down his chest with barely felt touches. Alec let himself go soft under the action, let himself drift into a place of bliss after the pain, the agony.

Wait. The pain.

He jumped up with far less elegance than an Angel should possess and stared at Magnus in wonder and horror as he realised exactly where he was.

“Magnus!” He hissed. “How are you here?”

Magnus response was a lazy and self satisfied grin as he tilted his head.

“Your brother is a delightful man, or Angel, I suppose.” Magnus mused.

Alec gaped at him, a chill easing up his body. “You’ve met Rackriel? Oh dear Lilith, how are you alive?”

“He said something along the lines of don’t screw this up or I’ll harvest your soul to lesser demons.” Magnus shrugged a shoulder. “Reminds me a bit of Jace if I’m honest.”

Alec snorted at that and relaxed his tension. “Don’t tell him that, he hates him.”

Magnus’ eyes become positively wicked then as he leant up so they were face to face. “I missed you.”

His heart did that weird stutter as his soul awoke after lying dormant for so long. “I missed you too.”

“Do you think,” Magnus tilted his head forward so their lips almost touched. “That if I kissed you now you’ll never leave me again?”

Alec grinned on his lips. “My soul and my heart belongs to you Magnus Lightwood-Bane. I’m never leaving you again.”

“Even if I’m a Warlock?” Magnus replied though he made no move backwards.

“Even then.” He whispered. “You’re mine forever, I’m afraid.”

Magnus hummed a sound that was almost a purr. “I suppose I could deal with that.”

Alec made a choked sound and kissed him softly once then twice. Light and barely there but enough that his chest tightened as that snap twisted between them, connecting them as one. Forever.

“And am I yours?” Alec asked finally.

Magnus’ cat eyes gleamed with that shine of love and passion and intensity that had been drained away as he died but was now reborn all for him, for Alec.

“You’ll always be mine Aleksandria.” He promised, his words as sacred as a wedding vow. “I love you.”

Alec leant forward so their lips could connect together again, his body shiveringin delightful tremors as he spoke. “I love you more, now and forever.”

And when Magnus curled his hands into his hair, rough and demanding, that slither of an invisible chord between them trembled in the magnitude of their love, of their passion.

His soul was home.

His home was Magnus.

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry, after this, they talk all about their problems, of the future and Alec being a self sacrificing idiot once more (Mr. I’ll turn into a Greater Demon for you) *spoiler, he doesn’t* Malec are just too absorbed in each other for any of that to take place ;)
> 
> Y’all I can just feel the mistakes. This is an old mess but it’s special to me.
> 
> This was an old idea for an AU I had. It resulted in this 8K of rubbish. Idk if I’ll ever continue the universe, we’ll see :)
> 
> Raziel is my baby, okay? I’d love to write an AU where he becomes mortal like Alec and falls in love. Just imagine it, omgggggg.
> 
> Hope you like this! Of course, comments and kudos’ are welcomed, merci <3
> 
> (I need to stop spamming about malec. people must be getting sick of me ahah.)
> 
> <33


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